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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281974">where hope has been laid to rest</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia'>Averia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Blood and Injury, Cannibalism, M/M, Minor Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Experiments, Survival</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:48:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rescuing Koriand’r with his fellow Titans wasn’t supposed to end the way it does. Stranded on an ice planet, Dick is forced to fight for his survival… at least until the option to die is taken away from him by one Slade Wilson.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SladeRobin Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>where hope has been laid to rest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trying my hand on sci-fi. Don’t kill me. xD</p>
<p><strong>Day 6:</strong> <strong>Trapped Together</strong> | Family Intervention | Earth-3/Evil Bats</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"They are still getting closer, Captain."</p><p>Donna scowled at Roy's words. It was impossible not to hear the hidden panic. Her fingers were claws over the console as her gaze held the approaching spacecraft in a death stare. If Donna had been born a Kryptonian instead of an Amazon, her glare might have helped. As she hadn't been, the ship advanced steadily, turning more massive the closer it got.</p><p>"How long until we have enough power to touch speed force?"</p><p>"Ten minutes."</p><p>She straightened from her hunched position, glare hitting Roy.</p><p>"Still?"</p><p>"Without Vic," Roy breathed out, clearly trying not to think about their friend in the medical bay, then just shook his head. If only Wally could have come with them too.</p><p>Dick squeezed the bandaged hands resting between his. Pinkish streaks were already showing through. They had saved Kory from her sister, and now? Dick clutched onto her harder, and her head dipped against his in quiet reassurance, hair tickling his neck.</p><p>Would it have changed anything if he had listened to Bruce and stayed out of the rescue mission? Could he have done more?</p><p>Dick kissed her forehead. It was feverish, but she smiled. No. The busted lip and her tired green eyes told him everything he needed to know, so painfully expressive even without a pupil. He settled a second kiss to her warm golden hand as he had done numerous times when greeting her as part of Gotham's council and then he stood. His silver cape swished, felt heavier than ever as it reflected blue in the light.</p><p>"I'll take the fighter and buy us time."</p><p>His voice cut right through the argument Roy and Donna were having. Before anyone could argue against him, he forced them to stillness with a gesture of his hand.</p><p>"You need to manage the ship, Donna. We saved Kory because this war can only end with her. I'm the best expandable pilot we have. If I don't go now, all of us will die."</p><p>"Dick," Donna tried, stepping towards him. "You aren’t just anyone. Bruce is already breathing down our necks. The League’s too. If you don’t come back…"</p><p>"He'll know it was my choice, and he might scold and shun everyone with a cold shoulder, but he would never turn his back on you, not for the cause I died for."</p><p>His voice was cool and calm. He didn't count on dying, had stood against bigger odds before, but maybe he would. Maybe his luck didn't reach this dark part of the galaxy Komand'r already had under her control.</p><p>Donna's jaw ticked. Her fingers balled into fists. If only he were just a simple crown prince of a half-rotten world to anyone on this ship. "... Alright."</p><p>He nodded, thankful for the easy acceptance even though he could see the pain written all over her face. His stare met Roy until his friend concentrated back on the spacecraft and their shields, but his shoulders remained tense, flattened mouth reflecting against the rounded cockpit glass. </p><p>Kory kept her gaze down, tears dropping to the ground, and hands curled to fists. It was a testament to their predicament that no one tried to bodily keep him in the spacecraft or was at least screaming at him to stop being the self-sacrificial idiot he had been called quite often in life.</p><p>"We'll win this war," he whispered, lips pulling up into a wry smile, "And you can tell Jason that I won't give up my right to the throne so easily."</p><p>Donna huffed, but her eyes were sad. He bowed in front of her, balled left fist over his heart and right knee touching the ground.</p><p>"I, Prince Richard John Grayson of Gotham, ask to be relieved of my duties upon the spaceship Troia of the Titans fleet to defend Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran and grand her safe passage into the League's star system."</p><p>For a moment it was quiet. Only the lasers chiming in his ears.</p><p>"Granted," Donna replied roughly, and Dick stood swiftly, didn't halt to pull Kory into a hug no matter how much he wanted to. If he did, he wouldn't be able to go. </p><p>With eyes cold, he turned towards the opening doors. He had always hated long goodbyes anyway.</p><p>His brother would be furious. Jason had wanted to join them. Undoubtedly, he would believe that his presence would have changed things. Dick hoped that, someday, Jason would understand that his presence would have only damned one person more.</p><p>"Identity Confirmed. His Highness Richard Grayson. Welcome to Fighter #37," the electronic voice of Raven recited, and Dick checked the fuel and battery level before leaning back against the seat, hands curled tightly around the two sticks that built his steering wheel.</p><p>"Fighter #37 ready for departure. Activate systems. Assisted piloting. Set sight on Target Delta-Pi Darkstar Main ship."</p><p>The heavy metal doors of the hanger slowly opened as the AI recited his commands back to him.</p><p>"Activate take-off. Protocol overwrite Emergency Code #64448", he spoke, and his stomach swooped when he was catapulted into space, much faster than was usual.</p><p>He positioned himself directly in front of Troia and then Roy let down the shields. Dick was through before they stopped flickering. His fighter twirled out of harm’s way the moment he entered space. Green and pink lasers shot in his direction, and Dick started a swift descend. He just needed to be an annoying fly, just needed to concentrate half of Darkstar’s power on his small fighter. That way the damage to Troia would remain manageable.</p><p>
  <em>Easy peasy.</em>
</p><p>The longer it went, the more everything bled together. Space was only broken through by neon-colored strips of light, and it didn't matter if he flew towards the decks or the undercarriage, portside or starboard. Warnings blinked around him like deteriorating stars, the fuel was going down rapidly, but his energy was stable considering he didn't try to attack more than necessary. Dick ignored the light show around him, sweat beading on his temples when Roy's voice started the countdown.</p><p>(He had ignored the call to come back. It had been easy. There was too much at stake.)</p><p>The numbers went past him after Roy reached six. His feeling for time became nonexistent and it only got worse when the bottomless feeling of the speed force caught him as it tried to swallow him whole. It cut his breath short, made him lose control of his muscles, and the mix of colors that in-between space generated overtook his vision.</p><p>His fighter wasn't made to travel at such speed, the metal around him was heating up, system alarms growing shrill around him as an oxygen mask extended in front of him and was forced over his mouth and nose if he wanted it or not. </p><p>He had been too close to Troia. </p><p>The air heated up, grew crisp around him, made the oxygen mask feel unnecessarily cruel.</p><p>Dick nearly laughed.</p><p>Despite the safety measures, Dick lost consciousness when the metal started peeling away, the creaking and cracking an unholy melody.</p><p>As his spacecraft was whirled through space, Dick dreamed about a world in which he had kissed Kory as his bride, and as that dream fell away, he simply hoped that they had made it.</p><p>Dick wasn’t sure when the lights disappeared to be replaced by black and grey then white. His eyes fell shut again. His whole body was smarting and aching. He didn't want to move. The thick and unpleasant smell of burning metal and rubber made breathing a chore. </p><p>Dick wasn't sure how long he lay on the ground before he tentatively began to push up, testing his strength and mindful of any injuries he might not have noticed before. His eyes blinked open with a hiss. An endless desert of white, glittering snow greeted him. </p><p>Explained the cold biting into his hands. </p><p>Trying to catch his breath, he sat half curled together in the melting snow and burning wreckage. His ribcage felt alright. All his bones did. There was only an ache spanning his whole left side. Probably bruised.</p><p>Slowly, he pushed the wet hair out of his face, wincing when that pulled at the nasty burns running down his arms. Blood trickled over his temple to his jaw, dropped onto his collarbone. Dick squeezed his eyes shut to refocus, and then he slowly stood on unsteady feet. His breath was as white as his surroundings, and he knew that once he left the side of the burning heaps, he would feel the chill creep through his ripped clothes even faster. Carefully, he pried his torn cape off, tugging it around his upper body like a poncho. His burns flared, but he ignored the scalding pain.</p><p>After a bit of fumbling, he got the GPS integrated into his suit to activate. Relief washed over him when a hologram of a planet appeared above his wrist.</p><p>"Planet E01S. Experimental War Tactics. Abandoned two hundred years ago by the Neo U.S. Council. Weather unchanging. Temperature below freezing point."</p><p>Dick took in a shuddering breath, tried not to think about what that meant.</p><p>"Find the next shelter."</p><p>"Searching," the electrified voice replied. "Next shelter, twenty-five kilometers away. Abandoned laboratory."</p><p>Here he had thought it wouldn’t get worse. No chance. He had nothing to help against the cold.</p><p>"Search for underground roads."</p><p>"Searching. Map of underground tunnels available. Closest entry three kilometers away. Facing south."</p><p>Dick tilted his head back, stared at the artificial sun, and wondered if it ever went down. The AI hadn’t said anything about a day and night circle. There probably was none… The white seemed to shift around him. Dick closed his eyes.</p><p>Three sounded possible. Three had to be possible. Otherwise, he was already dead.</p><p>Three was horrible, three nearly killed him, and Dick desperately ripped open the duct, and then he collapsed against the next wall, screaming, hands bleeding. The cold metal had bitten through his gloves, had ripped the first layers of his skin right off. </p><p>But it could be worse, he reminded himself. He could be dead, essence ripped to shreds by the speed force.</p><p>For a moment, his eyes remained shut, breath still white in front of him, but he stirred upright before he could lose to the darkness. If he stopped now, it would end. He hadn't come this far to die in a dark tunnel that was star systems away from his home.</p><p>His fingers felt like breaking as he pushed first to his knees then to his feet, holding his balance with his fingertips pressed to the stone wall. His lips were cold. Everything was. Which was good. Kind of. If he felt the chill, he wasn't too far into hypothermia yet.</p><p>Slowly, he made his way through the desolate dark tunnels, hands poorly bandaged with the ripped cloth of his cape. At least down in the dark, he was protected from the winds. </p><p>It felt a tiny bit warmer, but a tiny bit wasn't much, and his only form of orientation was keeping his hand against the wall.</p><p>When he finally came across an old emergency room, he nearly sobbed in relief. Only to cry out when his hands started bleeding again, the harsh edge of the door cutting into the damaged flesh when he pressed the jammed hydraulic open with all the meager strength he had left.</p><p>He stumbled into the room, blinking tears out of his eyes.</p><p>His cold fingers tangled in the warm furs he found. Dick ignored the blood he smeared all over it, couldn't feel the hairs stick to his raw flesh as he pressed his face into the fluffy fabric, tears, and warm breath making the fabric stick to his skin. He calmed his breathing with his body pressed against the softness. Legs pulling closer as he lay inside the dark. A shaky breath left him. His eyes fell shut. </p><p>He could have fallen asleep like that, could have calmed his heart to the silence. Dick would never admit that he nearly did. </p><p>He forced himself to stand, to rip open the first aid kit.</p><p>The medication he found was no use to him, but he properly bandaged his hands and hoped he was starving off any developing nasty infection. Once done, he added two flashlights and a pickle to his repertoire before taking the long, dark road towards the laboratory.</p><p>Dick was in too much pain to think his deathly silent surroundings were eerie, but he knew something wasn't quite right with this planet, and it wasn't only because it had been used for military experiments up until two-hundred years ago. </p><p>There was no reason for this planet to exist anymore at all. The old unions had collapsed more than a hundred years ago, and the Leagues, Societies, and Corps had gained their footing and established themselves as the new order. Planets like these had been destroyed.</p><p>Dick wasn't sure after how many hours he reached the abandoned laboratory, was barely sure how he managed to get to the room. The thirst he felt was reaching its peak. His mouth was dry, his head hurt. He hadn't thought of taking snow with him to drink, not that he had any container to let it melt in, and his fingers would have probably frozen off had he tried.</p><p>The laboratory was a grand room, shaped like a dome. Probably beneath an artificial mountain of some kind. Hibernation pods were lined against the wall in a half-circle. Most of them were open. Ice glistening on them. Even the shut ones betrayed no sign of power or life except for one. Faint orange light glowed in lines around it.</p><p>For a moment, Dick simply stared, floor and roof seeming to tilt on their axis. He shook his head. Groaned when it made his head pound faster.</p><p>A dark laboratory was far from the spookiest room he had ever been in, but spaces usually remained untouched for very good reasons. This planet had been saved from termination, and yet, it showed barely any sign of life.</p><p>Slowly, he walked closer to the pod. Under the bright light of his flashlight, it looked near massive. At least two and a half meters long. One meter wide. It sat connected to the floor like its counterparts, hadn't been meant to be moved at all. With the back of his hand that was still protected by clothing, he rubbed over the iced metal, revealing the name.</p><p>
  <em>SPSS- General #000</em>
</p><p>There was no way to look inside. Either the ice was too thick to see a glass window, or there simply wasn't one. Dick leaned against it with a frustrated sigh, raised his flashlight to shine around the room. Shadows shifted in his vision. Nothing except the pod seemed to have energy.</p><p>The medical equipment was iced too, would possibly break if he touched it. It was better not to. His injuries were a pending death sentence already, there was no reason to add to them. If he could get the power back up and warm the room slowly, maybe some equipment could be saved.</p><p>The laboratory might have been a control room of some kind too, Dick guessed. The pods hadn't been meant for transportation, which was a strange proceeding for what had been declared as a laboratory by the AI. The experiments had been required to stay right in this room for a reason, had probably overseen whatever war tactic the planet had been meant to play out.</p><p>Either way, whoever was or whatever was in that pod was his only chance to find his way around this icy hell of a planet… or heralded certain death.</p><p>Dick’s gaze roamed the walls to find the emergency opener, and he let out a sigh of relief when it was painted bright red. It would be a struggle to get to the latch with his developing headache, his starting confusion, and without any good light, but at least it had been easy to find. He placed the pickle against the wall, then took the flashlight between his teeth. Only standing beneath it, Dick realized that the latch had been attached three meters above ground, and he internally cursed the designers. Who the hell had this been made for? </p><p>He nearly slipped down with his foot as he pressed against the iced wall, struggling to get a good grip against the slippery surface. By the time he got close enough to hook his fingers around the handle to yank it down with his bodyweight sweat beaded on his temples, and a pained breath echoed throughout the room when the metal latch dug into his wounds.</p><p>The pod opened with a hiss as he dangled a few centimeters over the ground, his harsh breath bouncing off the walls. Carefully, Dick let go, and still nearly collapsed right there. Sweat was lathering his skin, overexertion forcing dark spots into his vision. He grabbed for the pickle and abruptly flinched half a step back when a hand grasped the edge of the steaming pod, metal bending under the pressure.</p><p>Sickness crawled up his throat. He swayed, nearly fell to his knees again.</p><p>Dick pressed his shoulder against the wall to keep upright, hardened his grip around the pickle, other hand going for his remaining Escrima. His wounds barely hurt anymore, only felt numbly cold.</p><p>He locked gazes with the remaining eye of whatever creature he had unwittingly awakened as the laboratory was filled with warm vapor and dizzying orange light.</p><p>Dick nearly lost his grip on his weapons when the man rose to his full height. That. That thing inside the pod was undeniably large enough to effortlessly reach the emergency latch. Heart beating a swift staccato in his chest, his gaze trailed down, and his cheeks would have turned pink had they not already been red from the cold and his approaching fever.</p><p>He snapped his gaze back up again.</p><p>"Name?" he asked, voice rough. His throat clicked as he swallowed, no wetness to be found.</p><p>The man tilted his head, his hair as white as the environment above them. It curled against his chin. Dick found it strangely fascinating.</p><p>"Slade," the man, or creature, or android spoke in a low voice. Lips seemed to curl into a smile, though Dick found it hard to tell if he was already starting to imagine things. "Your highness."</p><p>Dick didn't ease out of his fighting stance, but hope bloomed in his chest.</p><p>"How do you know?"</p><p>"Your identity chip is communicating with mine,” Slade answered, tilting his head, taking him in. “Prince Richard John Grayson, the successor to the throne of Gotham,” he recited. “Currently, the highest of command on this base.”</p><p>If the identity chip was communicating with him directly… was he an android? Dick's gaze flicked down for barely a second. Cheeks heating this time. But he had never seen an android be this... endorsed. Maybe a replicant? A replicant to represent someone? It had been common to use replicants in war scenarios up to a hundred years ago until the replicant reforms had outlawed using any living being as cannon fodder in simulations.</p><p>"I see,” he replied slowly, trying to speak clearly. “No need for formalities. Please, Dick is enough." </p><p>Slade tilted his head in acknowledgment, gazing at him intently. They remained facing each other, the eye glowing silver in the dark.</p><p>"Do you… have anything to wear?"</p><p>Slade raised an eyebrow, then looked down at himself - taking his sweet time Dick would have said, had anyone asked, and if he weren’t on the verge of collapse. "I'll find something if my nudity concerns you,... your highness."</p><p>The giggling laugh got stuck in his throat, eyes nearly falling shut when that sent a spike of pain through his head right between his eyebrows. "Right." </p><p>The unholy gaze continued to watch him.</p><p>"The cold doesn't bother you at all," Dick mumbled, mind trying to knit together the information he held and failing terribly.</p><p>Slade looked around lazily as if he were just realizing that everything was covered in ice. His attitude reminded Dick of the Chimera's he had seen on Themyscira. It made his throat tighten unwillingly. They loved to laze around but coming too close to one always ended in death.</p><p>"Can you move, Richard?"</p><p>Dick blinked, sight shifting. Slade had already stepped nearer. "What?" he asked, tightly.</p><p>"Away from the wall," Slade clarified, moving nearer. "Can you move?"</p><p>Dick stared at him, stomach twisting. "I...," his muscles weren't willing to move, his thoughts as thick as molasses. There was a predator in front of him, and his muscles weren't moving. "No."</p><p>Slade crossed the distance, still very, very naked, and Dick tensed waiting for— His breath hitched when Slade picked him up, pickle and Escrima falling out of his hands, clattering against the floor.</p><p>With his head bedded against the man's shoulder, one arm around his back and the other beneath his knees, Dick didn't care anymore if Slade was going to kill him because Slade was warm, so goddamn warm Dick started to cry when he craved for more and yet shied away from Slade as if he might just burn him.</p><p>"Slight hypothermia. Dehydration approaching critical levels," Slade recited what Dick guessed the chip was telling him. A desperate sound escaped him when Slade sat him down into the pod, but it was still radiating warmth, and Dick blinked up at the… man? </p><p>Looking up at him, Slade seemed strangely emotionless, and Dick curled together beneath the eerie gaze, head resting against the sharp edge of the pod. He told himself to keep his eyes open, that he wasn't out of danger yet. </p><p>Slade might just lock him into the hibernation pod, get rid of that weak life that had freed him. </p><p>But it didn't matter what he told himself or what he wanted. Goosebumps racing over his skin, his body and mind succumbed.</p>
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